I Refuse to Get Climatized

I don't know if that's a word, climatized. I suspect by the squiggly red line underneath in Live Writer that its not.

It was 28 degrees here this morning.

You'd think it was the end of world.

I wear a thin fleece probably suited for a late evening jaunt into the woods in New Hampshire in September.

People think I'm nuts.

You realize its cold? they say.

Last night I went outside to turn off the Christmas lights without a shirt on.

Ok, thats nuts.

Ok, thats nuts, not because of the cold but because I am 165 pounds of white skin and bone. Nobody is dying to see me outside shirtless.

Biking in shorts and t-shirt.

You can't let yourself get complacent.

What if I decide to move to Alaska someday? I don't want to be all crying like a baby because its 40 in July and I'm not used to it.

Its not the cold, its the snow I hate.

Ok, I'm nuts.